


Gensokyo Yukkuris: Refreshing Factory Tale

by AlgaeNymph



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Comedy, Gen, Sex Machines, The Factory, Yukkuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5378069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlgaeNymph/pseuds/AlgaeNymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Satori is given an opportunity to solve her yukkuri infestation -- by entangling herself in another one of Kanako's schemes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gensokyo Yukkuris: Refreshing Factory Tale

    Whenever Gensokyo has a new Incident, new types of yukkuris manifest, appearing in areas appropriate to the person they were based on.  In the case of Clownpiece, a chthonic fae known as a lampad, her yukkuri counterparts manifested in Gensokyo’s underground.

    Much to the consternation of the oni.

    Yukkuris, especially rare ones, have caricatured personalities, and the clownpieces-

    -ck yeah!  Comin’ again to save the motherfuckin’ day, yeah!  America, fuck y-”

    -wouldn’t stop singing-

    “-a, fuck yeah!  What’cha gonna do when we come for you now?”

    - _that song_.

    The oni quickly, and brutally, discovered what clownpieces were filled with: pizza; which like Clownpiece is iconicly US American, and originally from Greece.  Being eastern, the oni didn’t have a taste for melted cheese so eating the pests wasn’t a solution.  Melted cheese didn’t make particularly good compost either, so smashing them on farms wouldn’t work either.

    Since brute strength and brute cunning couldn’t solve their problem, the oni let “that three-eyed know-it-all” handle it. Thus, Satori Komeiji had more dead clownpieces than she knew what to do with.  Reimu could only buy so many, Yuyuko wasn’t interested in any more, Yukari only wanted hecatias (“Real olive oil is so hard to come by.  There isn’t even enough for me to just take!”), and Satori was running out of lemon drops.

    Satori, being all-too busy, typed away her latest “autobiography” as she watched her pets administer the narcotic confections to the currently singing yukkuris inside one of her vast kitchens.  Many hands made light work, and the earworm-infested paste buns were soon dead asleep.  They would soon be just dead

    Satori’s pets then took off the clownpieces’ hats, pulled out their knives-

    -thunk!- -thunkthunkthunk!- -thunkthunk!- -thunkthunkthunk!-

    -and stabbed the yukkuris right in their paste cores, quickly and (mostly) painlessly killing them.

     _At least they can be mercifully euthanized,_ Satori thought.  _Disposal is still a prob-_

     _-vooooo **wom** oooo…-_

    The intro to Cobra’s leitmotif alerted Satori to her best and worst business partner.  “Here’s the other half of the battle,” Satori muttered as she pulled out her phone and pressed the screen.  “Start with the bad news,” Satori answered.

    “You’re talking to me and not Sanae,” Kanako replied with an amused lilt.

    “And what allegedly good news do you bring?”  There was nobody there, but Satori reflexively looked behind her.

    “A mutually beneficial business proposition,” Kanako said, “specifically the opportunity to sell off those clownpieces infesting your palace.  I’ll not only pay for the already dead ones as well, I’ll even include a bulk bag of much-needed lemon drops.  Not that you’ll be needing as much in the future, of course.”

    Satori massaged her forehead. “To what end will you put the live yukkuris?”

    “The gullets of US American servicemen,” Kanako said with a sinister tone; “they prefer heavier meals than the local fare can provide.”

    Satori sighed.  “You do understand there are stringent ethical guidelines regarding the use of live yukkuris?”

    “The same guidelines also allow painless slaughter of food yukkuris, a process I have recently innovated.”

    “Exactly how?”  Satori asked, dreading the answer.  Given the prolific nature of yukkuris, industrialized euthanasia was one of the first technologies researched.  The best so far was a chute that automatically sorted yukkuris into a lying rack, where each one would be pierced by a “core mangler:” a spike that extruded several hard pins once inserted into the yukkuri, then spun for several seconds.  While painful, it was quick and guaranteed the yukkuris didn’t linger.  Variants that tried to put the yukkuris to sleep first were attempted, but they were either unsuccessful (lemonade IVs), prone to malfunction (liquid lemon candy misters), or simply too expensive for the yukkuri-indifferent humans (anything that worked and didn’t malfunction).

    Any innovation of Kanako’s would be about profit first, and yukkuri welfare maybe.

    Kanako gave a deep chuckle.  “Not only does this new process slaughter yukkuris without suffering, it serves to improve their flavor as well,” Kanako’s voice dripped knowingly.

    Satori paled.  The best-known method of improving a yukkuri’s flavor was through torture.

    Satori regained her composure, steeling her visage.  “Kanako Yasaka, as a deputized proxy of the Yama of Xanadu, I am required by the law of Higan to force you to cease and desist the systemized torture of innocents.  As a being of metaphysical authority, you are within Higan’s jurisdiction for direct intercession.”

    Kanako mmmm’d.  “I _love it_ when you talk authoritative to me,” she purred.  “But back to business.  I _would_ like your expert appraisal of the situation.  I’m fairly certain my yukkuris aren’t being tortured; they don’t seem to be complaining anyway.  However, they’re not exactly in their right minds, minds that you can directly see.  Care to give my factory an inspection?  Make it official business for the Yama and she’ll compensate you for your time.”

    Satori took a few tense breaths through her nose.  “When, and where?”

    “As soon as you can get here,” Kanako said.  “It’s a little place in Naha, I’ll text you the coordinates.  See you soon.”  Kanako then disconnected.

    Satori stood up from her desk.  “Orin,” she called.

    The kasha cheerfully stepped out from whatever shadow she was hiding in.  “Yeah, Miss Satori?”

    Satori looked at her phone, reading the location Kanako gave her.  “Get Okuu and meet me at the nether path,” Satori said, referring to how psychopomps like Rin went to and from the Outside.  “There’s a new yukkuri factory.”

    Rin’s tail whipped a bit.  “Ooo, nasty.  Where’s this one?”

    Satori frowned.  “By Naha Port; it looks like Kanako’s looking for more than a local market.”

     

    * * *

     

    Kanako, dressed in her red business suit tonight, leaned back against the wall next to the large southwest loading entrance doors to the newest yukkuri factory.  She looked up at the cloudless night, the partial moon giving enough light to see by – or cast shadows.

     _This place would make a good movie set,_ Kanako thought, as she turned her gaze back down to the surface.  There was about a few yards of space between the factory and the fence, which itself was right next to the road.  The space was both for security, denying anyone unauthorized a place to hide, and overnight parking for cargo vehicles, providing many places for unauthorized visitors to hide.

    Three assuredly authorized visitors stepped out from one of the shadows: Satori and her pets.  _Daughters, really._   Utsuho would have made a striking figure with her large, ebon wings and statuesque body, but her modified schoolgirl outfit and her somewhat anxious demeanor spoiled the effect.  Rin was in her usual snug green dress, and had her usually cheerful demeanor.  Kanako felt the kasha, with her ability to control of youkai-possessing vengeful spirits, was just as dangerous as the reincarnated sun goddess.

    Satori herself, however, was attired differently; instead of mismatched pastels, the satori wore a rock-grey overcoat and boots.  The coat covered Satori’s cords, protecting them from grabbing, but was modified so that her eye was able to protrude and gaze at minds.  _The satori war coat,_ Kanako thought. _She probably has her dueling knife too; her sister certainly does._

    How a satori’s anatomy shaped their martial arts is another story.

    Satori strode forward as fast as her little legs could carry her.  Rin kept pace with a predatory sashay, while Utsuho struggled to slow her pace.  Satori’s eye looked at Kanako, then flicked away as Satori blushed.  Kanako shook her head as one of her mental compartments replayed a particularly sordid memory of herself and Suwako; a useful telepathy block.

    Kanako bowed as the Komeiji trio reached a respectable distance.  “Good evening, guests, and welcome to the first ethical yukkuri factory.”

    Satori bowed, but didn’t take her eyes off of Kanako.  “Such best not be an oxymoron; yukkuri factories are cesspits incubating evil, little more than excuses for industrialized torture.  Sin is the only real product of these abominations.”

    Kanako gave a friendly smile and chuckled.  “That was most certainly the case here a little over a week ago, just before I had some protestors shut the place down.  Citizen activism works so well with proper guidance.  I stage a few gruesome deaths among the upper management to look like mysterious suicides, and the place becomes allegedly haunted as well.”

    Satori’s eyes narrowed.  “There certainly is a devil on the premises.”

    Kanako’s smile vanished, her face turning serious.  “I’ve met full devils, as has the Yama.  You haven’t, and I hope you never will unless it’s to slay them.  Be also aware that seeing their minds will be far more unpleasant than staring into mine.”  Kanako smiled again.  “Tonight, however, needn’t be so grim.  Shall we begin the tour?”

    “Out here?” Utsuho asked.

    Kanako shrugged.  “If you wish.”  She turned to the side, motioning at the door with her arm.  “This is Loading Door 1, the southwest loading entrance to the factory, where stray yukkuris are brought in by the truckload.  The entrance for factory workers is on the other side of the building,” Kanako turned to grin at the Komeijis, “you three get the insider’s view tour.”

    Rin turned to Utsuho.  “Mainly so nobody sees Miss Kanako here partnering with scary monsters.”  Rin thought a question to Sator-

    “No, Orin,” Satori said, “I don’t believe we’ll need to disguise ourselves.  This place is, after all, haunted.”

    Kanako nodded.  “It will also be too dark for humans to get a good look at us.  Over here,” Kanako said as she motioned to the keypad by the doors, “is the rudimentary security that came with the factory.  It’s only two layers of security, and a competent infiltrator can get past both easily, but too much security hinders efficiency.”  Kanako flicked her wrist, and a keycard appeared in her hand.  She swiped it through the slot, and with her other hand dexterously typed in what had to be a 20-digit code on the keypad.

    -ka- **klunk** -

    The entrance doors whirred open.

    Satori cocked an eye.  “Does everyone else put up with such hassle?”

    “Long passcodes are surprisingly easy for humans to remember when they’re based on personal mnemonics,” Kanako said.

    Utsuho walked up and peered inside the entrance.  “Where’re all the yukkuris?  I don’t even hear them.”

    “In separate rooms, with soundproof walls,” Kanako said. “The room in front of you is Phase 1 Processing; sorting, really.  It’s where the strays are batch-tested for bronze-badge intelligence-”

    “Oh, I know what that is!” Utsuho said, raising her hand.  “It’s…uh…” Utsuho tapped her finger beside her mouth. “…Making sure they’re not stupid.”

    Kanako smiled patiently.  “Exactly correct.  Those that pass, or are rare enough, are taken to the second floor for evaluation and possible breeding.  Phase 3 Processing is canning and packaging, with the necessary containers provided through Loading Door 3 in the northeast.  Phase 4 Processing is shipping prep, where boxes are sorted by where they’re to be shipped to.”  Kanako pointed to the front of her, along the factory wall.  “The goods from Phase 4 Processing are shipped out Loading Door 2 to the southeast.”

    Utsuho stepped out and looked toward where Kanako pointed.

    Satori strode to the entrance. “Of relevance to our visit will be the still-mysterious Phase 2 Processing,” she said.

    Kanako nodded.  “That is where I will showcase my simultaneous yukkuri-friendly butchering and flavor-enhancement technology.” Kanako pulled out her smartphone, then tapped and swiped on her screen a bit.  “Feel free to head there now.  Make a left, then a right, then go up the second set of stairs.”

    Satori took Utsuho by the hand and guided her along, Rin followed behind.  Kanako finished with her phone and caught up with the Komeijis.

    “Continuing where I left off,” Kanako said as the group made a left, “I put the previous business in enough financial trouble that they were eager to sell me their entire capital at cost.”

    Satori kept a straight face as the group turned right.  “Uncharacteristic luck on your part.  No doubt the curse goddess had a role to play.”

    Kanako ignored that. “I had to liquidate almost all of the previous processing equipment, though I was able to get a competent and _inexpensive_ technician to salvage the vitals sensors and restraints systems.”

    Satori closed her eyes.  “A pity the kappa know not the value of money.”

    Kanako shrugged.  “The kappa _are_ their own means of production, and in a small pre-industrial economy at that.  What more could they want besides cucumbers and prostitutes?”

    Satori hmph’d  “Yet _you’re_ going to be _their_ goddess of technological innovation; Edison dictating to two-thousand Teslas.”

    “Because for all the kappa’s gadgeteering genius,” Kanako said, “their lack of pragmatism keeps them from being the dominant youkai species.”  Kanako’s voice lowered.  “Standardized electromagnetic turbines, that’s all I asked for…” she muttered.  Kanako perked back up shortly.  “Thankfully, an individual kappa makes for an excellent consultant.  I simply provided the draft for the Exhaustive Stimulation Array-”

    The group began to climb the exposed metal stairs on the right walls.  “You designed something yourself?” Satori asked.

    Kanako smiled.  “I _am_ the goddess of technological innovation.  After I had her improve on the mockup and provide the schematics, she got the fresh pickles she wanted and I got a new patent.”

    Satori’s eyes narrowed. “And history repeats itself.”

    The group reached the top of the stairs.  “Come now,” Kanako said as she turned to the door, “I didn’t renege on any pro-”

    Kanako turned to see Satori and Utsuho.  “Where’s Miss Kaenbyou?”

    Satori half smirked.  “Around.”

    Kanako paused a few seconds, then decided Rin’s lurking was defensive in nature.  She turned back to the door and swiped her keycard through the e-lock.  “I certainly hope she’s **around** to witness my latest success,” Kanako said as she typed in another long digit passcode.

    “Implying you’re routinely suc-”

    The door pulled open.

     _nhooooo! nhoooo! nhhhoooooooooo!_

    Satori’s cutting remark was suddenly blunted by that distinctive sound.

    “Ooo, I hear yukkuri’s mating.” Utsuho said.

    Kanako gave a predatory smile.  “Technically, they’re not mating, and in fact are doing the opposite of creating life.”

    Satori stomped in as fast as her little legs could move her to witness what was inside.

    She found herself on a steel balcony overlooking a dimly lit room below. Inside were hundreds of yukkuris of several common varieties, bound in racks and attached to vibrators and health monitors.  Some yukkuris were violently shaking, others were merely shivering, but all had their faces varyingly contorted in pleasure.

    Satori leaned over the railing, her third eye rapidly flicked from one yukkuri to another as her first two eyes stared in shock.  Utsuho walked up the railing at Satori’s right and stared at the scene like a curious child would at a rowdy bonobo exhibit.

    Kanako sauntered in, her grin now larger.  “A question I asked myself was ‘What is it about pain that makes yukkuris taste better?’  I had to select my initial test subjects carefully, lest I harm any yukkuris either the Yama or Sanae would care about, but I thankfully didn’t require much destructive research to acquire useful data.  Specifically, how a yukkuri’s body reacted during torture.”

    Kanako walked to Satori’s left and peered over the balcony railing.  “The results were utterly unsurprising: increased tension in the pseudo-organ, release of stress hormone analogue, and so forth.  From there, I asked ‘what else could cause these physiological states?’  I figured any prolonged exertion could, so why not have it be pleasurable?  What you see is the result.”

    Satori said nothing, continuing to watch the tableau below.

    Utsuho continued to watch as well.  “How come they’re not making a mess?”

    “Once a yukkuri’s arousal becomes visible, we dampen and seal her sex organ.  Given that ejaculate and brains are the same medium for yukkuris-”

    “You mean paste?” Utsuho asked.

    “Yes; that, and other filling” Kanako said. “Because of the sealing, the yukkuris can’t expel pleasant memories, which continue to accumulate and lock the yukkuris in a trance, overtaking any thoughts of self-preservation.  In the process of exhausting themselves to death, their filling flavor improves _very_ noticeably.

    “Wow…” Utsuho droned.

    Satori continued to analyze the yukkuris in morbid horror.

    Kanako turned to Satori “So, how’s the inspection going?”

    Satori didn’t turn her head, or notice her death grip on the railing.  “I know the Belmont Report specifically mentions humans, but yukkuris are sapient enough that researchers learning of the torture data _will_ make arguments against your research.”

    Kanako gave a sort-of friendly smile.  “That _is_ an intelligent remark.  First, I’ll remind you that the Belmont Report does not forbid the use of torture-based research if it will provide a real benefit.”

    “It _does_ forbid using torture to begin with,” Satori said.

    “Correct,” Kanako said.  “Have you confirmed if this _is_ torture?”

    Satori continued to look into the yukkuris’ minds:

     _Soeasy!soeasy!soeasy!_

     _Nhhooooooooo!_

     _Chen gets iiiiiit!_

     _Refreshing foreverrrrr!_

     _Uuuuuuuuuuuuu!_

     _Sho shleepy…_

     _Mihster Vibrator takes it so **easy!**_

    Every yukkuri’s thoughts were the same: nothing but pleasure.

    “They’re not in agony,” Satori said, “but neither are they sane.”

    “Strays that fail bronze testing aren’t considered sane anyway,” Kanako said.  “They’re the lowliest of middle yukkuris at best, and even Lady Hijiri would be quick to euthanize them.  This is by far the kindest fate they’ll ever have.”

    “You truly are the best of all evils,” Satori mumbled.

    While Satori was occupied, Kanako pulled out her smartphone again, swiping and pressing the screen.  “We collect strays in batches, but they vary in health, so they tend to die in clusters.  I hope the type I’m looking for is due soon…”

    On Kanako’s screen was a display of the real-time vital signs the yukkuris below, sorted by those most likely to die any moment.  Kanako slid the stats screen up until she saw a remilia.  She smiled, pressed some icons on the edge of her phone, and loaded a texting app.  She selected a contact, one of the on-shift interns, and typed “Bring yukkuri R1K4S3 (a remilia) to balcony when dead.  –Ms. Yasaka.”

    Kanako pressed the ‘send’ icon, then turned to Satori.  “Good news, you two are about to sample the finest environmentally friendly meat since Suwako’s cricket ranch.  A pity Miss Kaenbyou will miss this delicious opportunity.”

    Satori considered turning to Kanako and actually smiling, but suspected the goddess would interpret that as an impending attack.  Satori instead peered back down into the exhaustion racks, watching and waiting.

    After about a minute, a human walked in along the row of racks closest to Satori, looking quite faceless in a white coat, goggles, face mask, and hairnet.  Satori turned her third eye toward the human.

     _R1K4S3… give it to the boss… Wonder what she wants with it.  This place is weird and creepy, but they’re not screaming at least._

    The human stopped by one of the racks and began detaching the remilia.  Satori turned her third eye to the yukkuri, and found nothing.

    The human carefully pulled out the remilia, turned around-

    Rin swiped the yukkuri from the human, giving a friendly smile.  “Don’t mind me, just savin’ you a trip.  Have a good evenin’!”

    Rin gracefully bounded onto the rack, and again onto the balcony next to Utsuho. 

    Kanako was still wondering what shadow that cat slinked out from.

    Utsuho was claping, smiling broadly at Rin.  “That was _so cool!_ ”

    “Jus’ my job, sis,” Rin said.  She then turned to Satori and bowed, presenting the dead yukkuri.  “Dinner is served.”

    Satori pulled out a knife from an unseen pocket, tugged up a bit on the remilia’s hair, and with a deft circular motion scalped the yukkuri.  Satori pulled harder, and what once was a smiling corpse was now a macabre meat bowl.  Satori then sheathed her knife, and pulled out a spoon.

    Kanako smiled.  “Western utensils, I see.”

    Satori scooped a chunk out of the remilia.  “They’re more practical, and we’re not Confucian.”  Satori spooned the meat into her mouth-

     _Gods, this is good!_ Satori thought.

    Satori’s eyes widened as she swirled the meat in her mouth; not chewing on it but instead letting it dissolve instead to better savor the flavor.  It still tasted like meat, but Satori only now understood why cooking show judges used grandiloquent metaphors.

    Satori turned to Utsuho, handing her the spoon.  “This is very, _very_ good.  Eat this slowly.”

    Utsuho took the spoon, scooped out a large chunk, and put it in her mouth.  She mmmm’d as her eyes widened.

    Rin’s tails twitched faster as she smiled lustfully at the meat bowl.  Tired of being teased by the savory aroma, she bent her head down and lapped up several tonguefulls of meat.  Rin moaned and rolled up her eyes as the taste overwhelmed her with pleasure.

    Kanako looked on, instinct taking over and her eyes narrowing to slits.  “It’s taking all of my willpower to not just grab that thing and swallow it whole.”  Satori absently nodded, remembering what Sanae told her about Kanako’s earlier eating habits.

    After a couple of minutes, the meat finished dissolving and Satori was able to speak, though she stared hungrily at the meat yukkuri.

    “I can only hope others will be able to afford such high quality, cruelty-free meat,” Satori said.

    “Supply certainly won’t be a problem,” Kanako said, “yukkuris eat and breed like pigs, and therefore are as ubiquitous as pigeons.”

    Satori regained her composure and turned to Kanako.  “No doubt you have both vertical and horizontal integration already planned.”

    Rin lapped herself a mouthful of meat, and Utsuho helped herself to another spoonful.

    Kanako’s smile became predatory again.  “I wouldn’t be the goddess of technological innovation without ambition.  I start by having my own stray collection services, I expand into breeding, and further still into collecting food waste.”  Kanako closed her eyes and shook her head.  “Humans are so wasteful, but they’ll be so grateful for the inexpensive, environmentally-friendly food I’ll be providing.  I wonder how many suicides there’ll be when the other factories can no longer compete.”

    Satori’s expression hardened.  “Far less that the number of staged suicides sure to precede them.”

    “I best not be predictable,” Kanako said, “lest some master detective find me out.”  She put her finger under her chin.  “Maybe I could have some managers eaten by yukkuris, that would be fun to watch.”

    Satori frowned.  “That would also cause a backlash against yukkuris.”

    Kanako hmm’d.  “I’ll need to study that plan then.”

    Satori closed her eyes in tension.

    “The point is,” Kanako said, “humans will be both materially _and_ morally better off, and yukkuris will no longer be tortured for food.  What does it matter if I make this happen for selfish reasons?”

    Satori opened her eyes again.  “A selfish person like you becomes more financially powerful.  Your plan’s success will mean a monopoly on the world’s meat and chocolate.”

    “Don’t forget pizza and olive oil,” Kanako said.  “Given the nature of my supply chain, my monopoly will be a natural one as well, which brings us back to you.  What would you consider a fair price for your infestation of clownpieces?”

    Satori smirked.  “Just less than how much it would cost for you to procure them yourself.”

    Kanako’s expression turned neutral, her tongue flicking out in reflex. “Rather usurious of you.”

    “We could have an independent arbiter help us negotiate a price,” Satori said.

    Given Gensokyo’s small population and smaller economy, that meant one of two people: Patchouli, who was Satori’s friend; or Mamizou, who worked with a woman as ambitious as Kanako.

    Kanako looked aside.  “I suppose I can begin with your terms.”  Kanako’s eyes flicked forward, looking right into Satori’s.  “However, I will be looking into ways to innovate yukkuri harvesting, which will drive down the top price.”

    Rin and Utsuho continued to eat and savor the dead yukkuri.

    “All the more reason to take advantage of the current market,” Satori said.  “You would do no different.”

**Author's Note:**

> A common trope in yukkuri fiction is the Factory, where yukkuris suffer through industrialized torture ostensibly for flavoring purposes. While humans often torture yukkuris for no reason at all, the Factory is related another trope in that yukkuris taste better when they're suffering.
> 
> As for what yukkuris taste like, it depends on what they're filled with. Now if only I knew how to add rows in the wiki's spreadsheet...
> 
> Mostly, though, this fic's mainly an excuse for me to write Kanako and Satori being all scheeming and political with each other.


End file.
